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A Letter to My Future Self; I Hope You’re Holding Your Baby

A letter to my future self; I hope you’re holding your baby

Dear Future Me,

I thought it was my duty as the old (and younger) you to write to you and remind you of how incredible you are. I hope today when you sit down and read this letter you think back to when I wrote it to you, sitting on the lounge in your trackies and ugg boots sipping peppermint tea after a particular bad day and thinking to yourself, one day I won’t appreciate how hard I worked to get my family, I won’t truly remember that horrendous feeling of longing for something I am not sure I will have. I won’t remember the heavy heart, the ‘someone is sitting on my chest’ feeling or the emptiness of being infertile.

You won’t remember the truth of these memories because in your future, infertility won’t be the all-consuming, every breath you take, every thought you have and every single part of your life like it is now.

When you are reading this, you will have started it three times because you haven’t had more than five minutes to yourself since you can remember, because holy moly will these kids every leave me alone?

You will be reading this as you sit and feed your brand new baby while your toddler runs around and throws toys at your head to get your attention, and you are willing him to knock you out.



You will be reading this with one eye closed as you try not to fall asleep on your sleeping baby, who chooses the worst possible times to sleep in your arms, and while we are at it why the hell wont she sleep at night, I mean for god’s sake she is almost one and still hasn’t slept more than 3 hours straight. Not once.

You will be reading this and wondering what and where is that disgusting smell coming from? It’s you. You haven’t showered in a while, oh and there is baby vomit all over your clothes and in your hair.

You will be reading this and wondering how long it has been since you were anyone but ‘mum’. Have you still got friends you will wonder, actually do I still have a husband? And speaking of him, what an amazing life he has – out of this disorganised, toddler tantrum-ing, newborn vomiting house 5 days a week for 9 hours. When can I leave for just 30 minutes all alone??


You will be reading this thinking back to how your life was before children, before these critters were hanging off you and throwing up on your only clean clothes you have because you haven’t put the washing on in days. You will think back to the carefree, spontaneous, pack the car and let’s go for a drive somewhere without worrying about anything else; staying out late without having to worry about the babysitter days and wishing that if you close your eyes and pray you will be transported back to your kid free days.

Let me just take you for a stroll down memory lane and remind you of that your child free days were like….


Sure, today I slept in, casually woke up to my own body clock and not a crying baby howling for a feed. I walked across the road and grabbed a coffee, not having to worry about who was looking after the baby or packing up the baby just to grab a coffee. I strolled around the park with the dog for a while doing some people watching had a late breakfast, we went out and looked at some furniture for the new house we are building and then came back home and had a little Sunday afternoon siesta. I have just had long hot shower with enough time to wash my hair and put a treatment through it, I have exfoliated my entire body and now I sitting in peace drinking peppermint tea with a face mask on in the peace and quiet with no one annoying me, no little kiddie trying to climb all over me, no baby throwing up on me, no toddler tantrums and no baby clinging to me as he is teething.

Pretty great Sunday right?

Except for a few little things; when my body clock woke me after a lovely sleep, it also woke me because it was time to inject.

When I casually walked over to get a coffee from my favourite café, it was filled with young couples and their cute little babies they were so in awe of.

When I took the dog to the park, the people I was watching were Mums and Dads watching their sons run around the footy field.

When we went furniture shopping we were looking at everything but what we wanted too; Nursery furniture, because we thought that when we moved in to our home it would be with a baby.

When I was in the shower I was looking at my tummy and all the needle marks and wishing it was big and swollen and full of baby.

So here is the thing, you may look back on your old life and think it was better that what you have now, and I may be looking to the future and wishing away what I have now. Let’s take a minute and appreciate what we have right now. And for you, future me; I hope with all that I have that you are holding a baby, looking at this bundle of joy and remembering how bloody hard you tried to make him, especially on the tough days – look at his perfect little face and remember the hundreds of injections, the disappointments of failed cycles and the heartbreak of multiple miscarriages and cuddle him a little tighter.


Love Me



Emily Lockley

Emily Lockley is 32, which she thinks is a great age by the way, still young enough to want to have fun and just old enough to not really care about the dramas of your twenties.and not where she thought she would be. In saying that for the most part, she loves where she's at. Great partner, loving family, amazing friends, living in Melbourne..blah blah right?! There is always something else we want, for her that's a baby, but it's just not happening the way she thought it would. Emily is an infertility blogger who writes of her journey through fertility treatment and the longing to become a Mum in a very real, raw and honest way.

One thought on “A Letter to My Future Self; I Hope You’re Holding Your Baby

  1. AvatarMelissa

    I really needed to read this today.
    I had a really bad day yesterday. My little Mr just did not want to sleep last night and I found myself close to breaking point. Tears and tantrums were involved by both parties!
    But this morning as I sit on my lounge watching Paw Patrol while he quietly eats his breakfast like a perfect angel I am reminded how hard we fought for him to be here.
    How many ovulation tests were studied and how many pregnancy tests were wished upon.
    Yesterday was hard. And who knows what today holds, but whatever happens I sure as hell wouldn’t replace it for those morning where he was only a dream.


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